


I've Got You

by carmillasleatherpants (courtneyarnelle)



Series: Fill Me In [9]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/F, Funeral, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Oops?, Spoilers: I killed Carmilla's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyarnelle/pseuds/carmillasleatherpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a single tear.</p><p>You’ve never seen Carmilla cry like this before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got You

**Your first two years** of university had passed quickly. Almost too quickly. And it’s now nearing the end of your second year. You’re spending the weekend at Carmilla’s dorm. You’d spent the last few weekends at yours because your roommate, Betty, had been spending more and more time at the Summer Society house. At first you thought she’d been seeing Danny because you saw them hanging out a lot. Which was only strange because you were sure her and Kirsch were a thing.

Sure, Kirsch was a little bit of an idiot when it came to women. But when he was around Danny he was more thoughtful about his words. And it was nice to see them starting to put their differences aside and stop arguing over petty things all the time. As it turned out, Betty was seeing another one of the sisters. And you’d caught Kirsch and Danny making out behind the Summer Society house where they thought no one would see them.

You hadn’t said anything because you figure they’d tell everyone when they were ready. But while you’d been expecting it, you still felt a little blindsided by witnessing the two of them together. You promised Betty the weekend to herself in your shared room because you felt bad about having Carmilla come down to your school the past three weekends. Instead you’d promised to drive up to her school this week and do whatever she wanted to do.

Carmilla had actually tried to be a little romantic and made dinner plans for you, but a freak storm decided to cancel those plans for you. Which meant watching old scary movies on a Friday night while the storm raged outside. Carmilla’s roommate had moved out at the beginning of the year, deeming Carmilla too difficult a roommate. Leaving Carmilla in a single because no one else wanted to take the chance of living with the “scary hipster chick on the third floor.”

Carmilla couldn’t care less about the rumors circulating the dorm about what an asshole she was. You know Carmilla is softer than she usually is when you’re around her even though you try encourage her to play nice.

You don’t miss any of the double takes the two of you get when you’re walking hand in hand with her. And you’d overhead some of the gossip in the showers once about how strange a couple the two of you make. You don’t mention it to Carmilla figuring it’s not important.

Carmilla reluctantly agrees to your choice of pizza which is the most heart attack inducing thing you’ve ever had on a plate. She pays the pizza guy, and you give him a sympathetic look when he runs back out into the pouring rain to his car. Carmilla leads you back up to the third floor, pizza gripped in her hands, and slides onto her bed.

You sit between her legs and rest her laptop on your thighs, while she sets the pizza next to you. You immediately open it and start eating while her arms maneuver around you to play the first movie. As Carmilla searches, she babbles in your ear about how much better old films are and that modern films were beating old tropes over the head. You nod along with her which keeps her from debating the topic with you and you lean back into her when her arms wrap around your waist.

You’ll likely never understand Carmilla knack for horror films. But you think she’ll never really get your attachment to science fiction. So you don’t complain on her movie choices tonight. She starts with _Psycho_. You end up elbowing Carmilla in the stomach on accident in your confusion when the killer murders Marion. And as if on cue her phone starts to ring.

Carmilla pulls her phone from her pocket and frowns at the screen.

“Who is it?” You ask as she scoots from behind you.

“My mother’s assistant. She never calls me unless it’s important.” Carmilla stands and stares at her phone for another second. “I have to take this. Do you mind?” You’re already shaking your head before she’s finished the question.

“No. Go ahead. I’ll just pause the movie and wait for you to get back.”

“You can play the movie I’ve—”

“Carmilla. _Phone._ ” You can see her blush, even through the darkness of the room.

“Right.” She presses the answer button and moves to step outside the door to her dorm. You can hear the half-muted conversation through the cracked door. You don’t try to listen in to respect Carmilla’s privacy.

You start on your third slice of pizza. You can hear Carmilla going back and forth with her mother’s assistant. Then she’s silent for a long time. You finally hear a hushed, ‘ _Okay_.’ Then she’s opening the door.

“What was it?” You ask. Carmilla doesn’t answer you at first. She sets her phone down on the bed and slumps down next to you so her back presses against your shoulder. She hasn’t look up from her feet once. You shift onto your knees and wrap your arms around her waist, and you press a kiss to her shoulder. Then she turns her head to the side but she still doesn’t meet your eye. You have to swallow from the broken look your see on her profile. “Carm, what’s wrong?”

“My mother just died.” Carmilla’s face is emotionless like she’s still processing. You move so you’re sitting next to her. She still doesn’t meet your eye.

“How?” You finally say taking her hand in yours and squeezing it.

“Her assistant said she had a stroke in her office. She’d been under a lot of stress with the company for whatever they’d been doing and asked to be left alone. So they did. And then they found her dead in her office a few hours later.”

“Oh Carmilla—”

“I’m fine.” She cuts you off before you can express your sympathies. Carmilla’s definitely _not_ fine, but you’re not really sure what the etiquette is for helping your girlfriend who’s grieving the loss of her guardian. You open your mouth to say something that probably won’t be at all helpful and Carmilla’s mouth is on yours, her hand gripping the back of your head. You pull away for a second and all you see in her eyes in unspeakable anguish. Your heart feels like it’s thudding too hard in your chest and you let her kiss you again.

You have enough mind to move the pizza box and laptop from her bed, before her hands quickly move under your shirt. You don’t protest as she pulls off your clothes and presses you against her bed. Carmilla’s lips don’t have that tender quality too them that you’re used to when they press against your skin. Her hands feel rougher against your waist.

You let out a breath when her hands palm at your chest roughly and her lips suck harshly at your collarbone. You let her have her way with your body because you think it’s okay if you’re a little more bruised than normal if it would make Carmilla feel a little better.

And as you’re questioning how healthy that thought is, her hands push into your panties and you’re not thinking about anything but how familiar she feels once she’s inside of you. It doesn’t take you long to finish. And when Carmilla moves from between your legs, she kisses you gently this time. You can’t help the small sound your make when she pulls her fingers away from you and sucks them into her mouth.

“Sorry.” She breathes and her damp fingers grip your bicep tenderly.

“You’re okay.” You tell her. You move your hands under her shirt and pull her against you until she relaxes into your arms. “I’m here, baby.”

* * *

 

 **“The funeral is in** two days.” Carmilla says when you’re close to drifting off to sleep. She sits up and starts to slip out of her shirt and you help her pull it off. Then her hands reach behind her to unclasp her bra and you take care of that for her. Then she’s pressed back against you. Her bare skin is warm and soft against yours. “Her assistant worked out all the details so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” A beat passes before she answers.

“Please?” It almost feels like she’s begging and you don’t think you’ve heard her sound this small since that thunderstorm a couple years ago.

“Baby, of course I’ll come if you want me to.” You rest your chin on the top of her head and run a hand down her spine. “Just—Are you sure you’re alright? You seem kind of—”

“Numb.” She finishes.

“… Yeah.”

“I feel numb. I don’t really want to talk about it. I just—Can we just—” She presses her lips back against the curve of your neck. You don’t think she should be trying to ignore this. But her lips feel distractingly good and her fingers press back against you. And you, once again, can’t find it in you to protest when you’re too busy coming undone beneath her skilled fingers.

* * *

 

 **You haven’t been to** too many funerals, but the way the sun is shining at this one feels cruel. It’s prime spring weather. The kind you want to go bike riding in or sit by a lake and have a picnic. Instead you’re sitting by a still numbed Carmilla whose blank-faced sitting next to a row of also stoic executives. Her mother’s assistant’s eyes are the only ones rimmed red from crying.

In the row right behind you and Carmilla is the teenager that you recognize as Carmilla’s cousin, Will, from the pictures she’s shown you. Will is a year younger than you and in his first year of University at some big school in Germany. He’s frowning sitting next to his mother who shares that frown.

Carmilla had promised him and his mother they’d talk later before sitting down and pulling you down next to her. Then she’d laced your fingers with hers and hadn’t let go since.

The funeral… goes. Most of the things said are about what a good business woman Lilita Morgan was and how good she was at her job. Carmilla goes up to the podium and tells everyone what a diligent mother she was and how she only wanted the best for her. She tells the people gathered how thankful she that Maman had taken her in and raised her. You think she might cry but she gets through her small speech without even a waver in her voice and sits back down next to you.

Then her coffin is loaded into a hearse and Carmilla drives behind the car to the place where she’ll be buried. Her body is lowered inside the grave and Carmilla tosses a handful flowers into the grave first. Slowly everyone joins in and you grip Carmilla’s hand a little tighter when you toss yours in. Then her mother’s coffin is covered in dirt.

Carmilla decides not to attend the reception. Instead she drags you aside to meet Will before the two of you leave. Will has a smile that reminds you of someone who you’d easily peg as a troublemaker in class. He shakes your hand firmly when you hold it out for him.

“So you’re Laura?” His accent is thicker than you’d thought it would be and you hope you don’t look too surprised.

“That would be me.” You reply. Carmilla releases your hand in favor of wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Don’t even think about it William. This one’s all mine.”

“Oh I believe you, kitty. She’s cute. You should keep her.” Carmilla’s lips pull into a smirk for the first time today and it makes you smile.

“I plan on it.” She answers. “It was good seeing you.”

“Same here. Wish it was under better circumstances.” Carmilla nods in agreement. “Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Of course.” She hugs him goodbye, then she quickly attaches herself back to your hip. And you start to think Carmilla might actually be okay.

Until Carmilla gets into the driver’s seat of her car and you slide in shotgun. She only makes it maybe five minutes.

It starts with a single tear. When you see it you feel a chill run down your spine. You’d been watching the road in front of you. You decided to turn to Carmilla to try and make small talk to distract her. She takes in a ragged breath and you rest a hand on her arm.

You think its meeting your concerned gaze that finally breaks her. Carmilla pulls over before she buries her face in her hands and sobs.

You’ve _never_ seen Carmilla cry like this before.

You had seen her cry before. There was the time you made her watch a couple Disney movies that made her cry. (And she’d made you swear _never_ to talk about again.) And another time when you’d been arguing and you found out that if you made Carmilla mad enough she’d tear up (which had only served to make you feel like an asshole because yeah it had been a stupid argument).

Carmilla sounds broken. Carmilla _never_ sounds like this. She’s never sounded so heart-wrenchingly defeated.

You put a hand on her shoulder and pull her into you until her face rests against your shoulder. Her tears soak into your blouse. You don’t speak or move, aside for your gentle fingers rubbing across her shoulders, until her sobs die off. She just keeps her face against your shoulder for a while and pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry.” Thanks to her waterproof eye make-up, there aren’t any streaks of black smeared on her face. But her face is flushed and she wipes half-heartedly at her face.

“You don’t need to apologize. You lost your mom.” Her face crumbles a little bit. “You don’t have to talk about it but—”

“No I have to—I need this off my chest.” She looks up to meet your eyes and you lift your hands to gently wipe at the tear streaks on her face with your thumbs. “I just—I know we weren’t exactly _close._ But she was the only family I had. At least in the states.”

You press a kiss to her forehead and she leans into your touch.

“I know, I know. I’m here, baby. I’m here.” You press another kiss to the bridge of her nose and Carmilla leans into you even further. Carmilla always acted so tough and disaffected by everything. And it was in moments like these where she just felt so vulnerable that you really worry about her. So you say the same thing your father had said to you when you’d lost your mother. “I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Will be uploading the updated versions of Her Mistake and Fergie later tonight. :)


End file.
